


When I Knock On Your Gates

by trashcangimmick



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftercare, Choking, Edgeplay, Fear Play, Feminization, Knifeplay, M/M, Rape Fantasy, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rough Sex, throatfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 05:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcangimmick/pseuds/trashcangimmick
Summary: While his parents are out of town, Steve gets an unexpected late night visitor.





	When I Knock On Your Gates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Propriety_is_not_a_priority](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propriety_is_not_a_priority/gifts).

> Vibes: ‘A Good Man is Hard To Find’ by Flannery O’connor.

The doorbell rings. 

It's ten o'clock at night. Steve's parents are out at some party in Gary. They told him not to wait up. Said they'd probably just get a hotel. So. Steve's not sure who would be _ dropping by _at this hour. He's not expecting anyone.

He doesn't really have that many friends these days. He doubts it's Tommy, or Carol, or Nicole, or any of the people who used to show up at his house unannounced. It’s sure as shit not Nancy. She dumped him months ago. 

Steve's already dressed for bed. He's in a loose t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. He was just watching some dumb horror movie on TV, drinking a few beers, contemplating what a waste of an empty house the night turned out to be. He walks up the hallway. Looks through the peephole.

Billy Hargrove, of all people, is standing there. He's in the usual, leather jacket and an open silk shirt. Always has to have his chest on display. Like. Steve gets it. You put that much work into something, then you wanna show it off. But it still makes Billy look like a douchebag. It's an accurate impression. Billy is a douchebag.

Steve has no idea what Billy's doing here. But Billy leans on the doorbell again. So. Steve jerks the door open.

"Um... hi?" He blinks. 

A slow smile spreads across Billy's face. It's a little dangerous. Billy is volatile, to say the least. He kind of gives off the impression that he could snap at any second. He gets in plenty of fights. Isn't shy about throwing a punch. 

Steve hopes Billy didn't drive over to his house in the middle of the night looking for a fistfight? 

"Heya, Harrington." Billy licks his lips. "Gonna invite me in?"

Steve's forehead creases. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I can't drop by to pay homage to the _ king?” _

Steve hadn't noticed it before. Billy's holding a paper bag in his right hand. He lifts it up and shakes it. Steve can hear the slosh of liquid.

"What's that?"

"Our very dear colleague Jose Quervo. Brought it to share."

Billy just kind of. Walks forward. He shoulder checks Steve on the way through the door. He doesn't wipe his boots. He lets out a low whistle as he looks at the paintings on the walls, the high ceiling, it's a straight shot down the hall to the kitchen with expensive granite countertops and a pot rack hanging from the ceiling.

"Nice place." Billy turns around. "Only saw one car in the driveway. You home all alone?"

"Yeah... ?"

"Good." Billy draws closer. Steve takes an instinctive step back. 

"This is weird, man."

"Oh, trust me. We haven't even started to get weird, baby."

Steve doesn't like the sound of that. The hair on the back of his neck is prickling. This whole situation is seeming less and less comfortable by the second.

Billy strolls into the kitchen. He sets the bottle down on the counter. Then he opens cupboards until he finds the glassware. He grabs two crystal tumblers from the shelf. He pours them each a couple fingers of tequila.

"Bottoms up." He raises the glass and knocks it back all in one gulp. 

Steve's already buzzed. He doesn't want to take Billy's alcohol. He doesn't understand why Billy is in his house. The purpose of this whole exercise is becoming foggier, if anything.

"Go ahead." Billy nods at the glass. "I didn't poison it or something."

"I don't like tequila." Steve says. Because that's easier than anything else he could say.

"Oh, no?" Billy sets his empty glass down and wanders closer. He gets almost within reaching distance. "Well too fucking bad. I said drink it."

Steve just stares at him. Billy smells like alcohol. He smelled like alcohol even on the doorstep. He must be pretty fucked up already. Steve doesn't even know why Billy knows where he lives. He doesn't know a lot of things right now, and that's making him very uncomfortable.

"I'm not telling you again." Billy raises an eyebrow.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Steve knows the words are a mistake as they're leaving his mouth. That's always kind of been a problem for him. He can never shut the fuck up when he needs to.

Billy lunges. He grabs Steve by the throat. The grip is strong. It catches Steve off guard. Steve stumbles as Billy walks him backwards until the edge of the countertop is digging into his spine. Billy grabs the uncapped bottle. He forces a finger between Steve's lips, making him open his mouth, tilting his head back. He tips the bottle up and pours the liquid down Steve’s throat. 

Steve gags. Chokes. The tequila burns. Some of it spills out the side of his mouth. 

“Swallow.” Billy’s voice is honey sweet, right in Steve’s ear. There’s a sharp edge underneath it that implies a lot about what might happen if Steve doesn’t play along. 

So Steve swallows. He hates the taste. He’s a little dizzy. Billy puts the bottle back down.

“Good boy.” Billy pats him on the cheek. 

He doesn’t back off. He lets Steve close his mouth. But his hand is still resting on the base of Steve’s throat. Billy’s basically pressed up against him. In fact, he presses even closer. Steve feels a fucking boner against his thigh.

Steve tries to shy away. There’s nowhere to go. Billy’s grip on his throat tightens. 

“Hey, baby, c’mon,” he coos. “I just wanna have a little fun. You like having fun, don’t ya? Tommy’s told me all about it.”

The singe of shame blooms under Steve’s skin. His heart rate ticks up. 

“Yeah.” Billy rocks his hips, a little. “He told me how easy it is to get you on your knees. Said you’re a fuckin’ slut for it. Love getting throat fucked like a bitch. I’m hotter than Hernandez. You’re into it, right?”

“Get off me.” Steve tries to push Billy away. He’s not into this. He’s _ not. _Billy Hargrove is a bastard. Just because Steve’s… done stuff before. It doesn’t mean he’s a fag. He was drunk. He’s nowhere near drunk enough for this. 

Billy doesn’t budge. He’s sturdy. He’s all broad-shouldered muscle. The adrenaline dumps into Steve’s veins, making him tense and prickle. 

It’s starting to dawn on him that he might be trapped. That Billy might not _ let him go. _

“Shhh, shhh.” Billy’s nails dig into the side of Steve’s neck. He squeezes hard, cutting off the air supply. Steve struggles. Panicked. Out of control in a way that he hasn’t felt in a while. His head is pounding. Terrible scenarios banging around in his brain. 

He hears a metallic _ snick. _Billy loosens his grip. Steve gasps, gulps down air. Then there’s cold metal pressing right along Steve’s jaw. Billy has a fucking switchblade. 

“It’s up to you, Harrington.” Billy’s smiling. Breathing heavy and wet. It’s disgusting. “I can be nice. I can be real gentle. Or… we can do this the hard way. Your choice.”

Billy’s clothes reek of cigarettes. His hand is rough and calloused. His eyes are glassy, but there’s a manic gleam in them. Billy would absolutely hurt him. Steve has no doubt about that. 

Steve’s cock twitches, starting to fill out. He has inappropriate reactions to fear. Always has. He runs headlong into bad situations just for the rush. He’s not drunk. But he feels kinda fucked up. Disoriented. High. 

He goes pliant in Billy’s grip. He doesn’t say anything. He’s not trying to get away anymore. 

“Yeah, baby. Knew it. You can act sweet for me. Be my pretty little girlfriend for the night, huh?”

Billy keeps the knife right where it is. He mouths along the other side of Steve’s jaw. His lips brush against Steve’s. God. Steve hates the way it sends a lurch of heat through him. He’s fully hard now. He doesn’t resist when Billy licks into his mouth. Fuck. He’s kissing back before he can stop himself. Billy groans, grinding against Steve’s thigh. 

The knife is gone. Billy steps back abruptly. He shoves Steve down. Steve’s knees hit the hard tile floor. He winces. Billy’s hand is in his hair. The knife’s against Steve’s cheek. 

“Get my dick out.” Billy laughs at him. 

Steve’s fingers are clumsy. Billy’s jeans are tight enough that he doesn’t need a belt. Steve manages to pop the button open and tug down the zipper. Billy isn’t wearing boxers or anything. His dick is right there. Hard and shiny at the tip. 

“Lick it. Get it nice and wet.” 

Billy rocks forward, pressing the head of his cock against Steve’s lips. Steve doesn’t want to. But he also kind of does. Not like he hasn’t thought about it before. The way Billy shoves him around on the basketball court maybe gives him ideas. Maybe he’s pictured something close to this exact scenario. Billy shoving him up against a locker and just. Taking what he wants. 

“Come on, slut. Lick it.” Billy’s tone is harsher. Impatient. The tip of the knife presses into Steve’s cheek. Not quite breaking skin. Yet. 

Steve flicks out his tongue. He drags it across the head of Billy’s dick, down the shaft, getting it spit-slick. Billy groans. He tightens his grip on Steve’s hair. 

Then he shoves forward. All the way. Steve’s throat convulses. Billy doesn’t give him time to adjust. He just starts thrusting. 

“Jesus, your _ mouth. _Fuck, Harrington. Knew you’d feel good. Fuckin’ knew it.”

Steve clutches at Billy’s hips. Maybe to keep his balance. Maybe in an effort to slow him down. Steve’s struggling to breathe. Tears stain his cheeks. Saliva dribbles down his chin. He’s gagging and spluttering. 

“Yeah. Choke on it _ bitch.” _

The words make Steve’s dick twitch. He hates it. He wants to touch himself. 

Billy pulls out. Steve’s only relieved for a moment. Then Billy’s behind him, pushing him to the ground. Steve’s splayed out on his stomach. Billy’s boot on his back, holding him down.

“Be a good girl and stay put for me.” Billy digs his heel in, adding more weight. “We both know I’m faster than you. If you try to run, it’s gonna hurt when I catch you. If you can follow instructions, I’ll make sure it’s good for you. Got it?”

Steve nods. 

“Perfect.”

The weight is gone. Steve’s lying on his cold kitchen floor. Somehow, he feels more helpless with nothing restraining him. He should try to escape. Maybe he could make it to the door. Billy’s drunk. Steve might be quick enough.

Maybe there’s part of Steve that doesn’t want to get away at all. Maybe he wants to know what happens next. Maybe he’s sick, and depraved, and he’s never been harder in his life. This is the one chance he gets, right? No consequences. He didn’t ask for it. Billy made him. He’s not gay if Billy made him do it.

Steve doesn’t get too long to think about it. He hears Billy clattering around. Then his weight settles. Knees on either side of Steve’s thighs.There’s a clink of glass setting down on tile. He tugs down Steve’s basketball shorts, exposing him. The shorts catch on Steve’s erection. 

“Well, what do we have here?” Billy chuckles.

He can’t be surprised. He must have seen it already. He still pulls Steve’s hips up enough to get a hand underneath him. He squeezes Steve through the silky fabric. 

“You’re into this, huh, Harrington? You like being my girlfriend.”

Steve bites his lip to keep from saying something stupid. He rests his face on crossed arms like that’s going to help him hide from what’s happening. Billy lifts the waistband of his shorts, and pulls them all the way down around his knees.

He grabs Steve’s ass cheeks and spreads them apart. He spits. Steve feels it hit him, warm and viscous right on his hole. He shivers. Billy rubs his thumb through it. Presses inward. Steve’s a little surprised at how easy it goes in. Billy must be too. He snorts.

“Huh. You take it up the ass a lot?”

Steve stays silent. Squirms a little. Billy slaps his thigh. 

“Answer the question.”

“I—I don’t.”

“Oh yeah? Why you so easy then?” Billy pushes his whole thumb in. Steve whimpers. “You just that hot for me?”

Billy’s thumb is replaced by two fingers. Slicked with something. Steve chances a glance over his shoulder and sees the bottle of olive oil. He figures he should be grateful Billy’s taking the time to open him up. It’s not enough time. Billy shoves a third finger in after just a few pumps. Steve gasps. It burns. Still better than nothing. Better than Billy just shoving right in like he could. 

Then Billy’s fingers are gone. Replaced with the blunt head of his cock. It feels thick. The surge of panic is sudden and overwhelming. 

_ “Don’t—“ _ Steve whispers. Not sure if he even means it. He’s dizzy. Pulsing with fear, and lust, and confused, conflicting signals. 

“You don’t want it, baby?” Billy rubs the tip of his dick over Steve’s hole. Not pushing in yet. Just teasing him. “You’re so hard. Kinda seems like you do.”

“I—it won’t—it’s too big,” Steve hiccups. His face is still wet. 

“It’ll fit, sweetheart. Trust me. It’ll feel good. Promise.”

Billy pushes forward. Steve grunts. It hurts. But. Not that badly. Billy’s rocking into him slow and it’s more a full ache than a sharp pain. 

“Just relax,” Billy sounds a bit strained. “Fuck. You’re so goddamn tight.”

Steve tries. He’s overwhelmed. Gasping. Then Billy gets deep enough to graze against something that makes a wave of heat lurch through him. He moans. It’s kind slutty and desperate even in his own ears. 

“Yeah?” Billy sounds amused. “Right there?”

He doesn’t wait for a response. He repeats the motion. Starts thrusting faster. Steve can’t seem to catch his breath. He’s panting. Shivering. He barely notices that he’s rocking back against Billy’s thrusts until Billy says, “Yeah. Fuck yourself on my dick you fucking whore.”

It’s a little claustrophobic. Billy’s weight on top of him. Billy inside him. Billy breathing on his neck, saying such filthy things right in his ear. The discomfort is still present, but it’s background noise. The pleasure of it pulses every time their bodies slide together. 

Steve’s so gone. He’s barely aware of where he is, or why he’s there, all he knows is that he feels so good and he’s lost in it. 

_ “Billy,” _ he whimpers. 

“Yeah. Come for me baby, do it.”

The weight shifts off him slightly. There’s a hand on his dick. Steve falls apart. He comes so hard his whole body jerks with it. He’s convulsing, breathless, high as shit. 

He barely registers it when Billy flips him onto his back. Billy sinks into him again. Kisses him while he thrusts fast and sloppy. Steve clings to him. Making the most pathetic noises. Billy shudders. He pushes as deep into Steve as he can get. They don’t stop kissing. Billy cups the side of Steve’s face, thumb brushing across his still wet cheeks. 

“It’s OK, baby. I’ve got you.” Billy slows the kiss down. He shifts enough to pull out.

Steve refuses to let go. So Billy maneuvers them as best he can. He pulls Steve’s shorts up and carries him to the couch. Steve sits in his lap. Face pressed against Billy’s neck. Just breathing in the familiar scent as Billy rubs his back and holds him. 

It takes a while. Steve does eventually come back. He sits up and kisses Billy softly. 

“How was that?” Billy smiles easy. It’s still obvious he’s nervous. He’s always nervous about this sort of thing. Even though he knows Steve would make it clear if he really didn’t like it. He’s still worried about fucking up. 

“So good.” Steve’s hoarse from the throat fucking. “I mean. You were kind of nice towards the end? Like. The point is for you to be mean. Maybe call me baby a little less?”

“Whatever. Fuck off.”

“You could cut me next time?”

“I still think that’s dangerous.”

“Well yeah.”

“God. You’re such a weirdo.”

They kiss again. Steve threads his fingers in Billy’s hair. Before long, they’ll head for bed. Fall asleep tangled up in each other. In the morning, they’ll have lazy sex and probably make breakfast together. 

“Love you,” Steve murmurs. He knows it makes Billy more nervous than playing with knives or fucking Steve rough enough to make him scream. But he can’t help it. When the feeling swells so big in his chest, he has to let it out. 

Billy huffs. Nips at Steve’s lip. Mumbles something that could be an _ I love you too. _Steve will take it. 

***

(Art by prygelknabe / propriety_is_not_a_priority)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Dancing Devil' by Small Leaks Sink Ships.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://trashcangimmick.tumblr.com) and stuff.


End file.
